Author's Note:Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/favorites/subscribes to the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. It belongs to people much wealthier and more creative than myself.

Pairings: Shane/OC sexual relationship, possibly romantic later

Warnings: Rated M for graphic content, including blood, gore, death, violence, profane language, and various adult situations. Readers under the age of seventeen are strongly discouraged from continuing further. Also, this is a Shane story written by a Shane fan, so if you don't like Shane, then please turn back and spare yourself the trouble of reading about a character you dislike. Finally, be advised that I am a slow updater, so do not expect the next chapter of this to go up for a while yet.

TWO: FRIENDSHIP

Shane slept deeply and without dreaming, drifting up toward the world of consciousness with the speed of a glacier. Memory proved to be a mostly elusive thing as he slowly woke to the smell of sex and sweat, but something at the back of his mind still supplied him with information.

*mating…exhaustion…my female…still here…mine…*

'Huh?'

Blearily, Shane opened his eyes and saw the pale skin of a woman lying next to him, turned on her side and facing away, naked as the day she was born, the same as him. Pausing to think about it, he finally dug up the hazy memories of yesterday and felt a slow, lazy grin stretch across his face. 'Becca…that was her name.'

He studied her a bit more closely, noticing numerous marks on her back. All of them were faint, maybe a shade or two darker than the rest of her skin and barely noticeable amongst the myriad white scars of various lengths all over the place. Something about those marks teased at Shane's memory as he gently traced the angular shapes with his fingertips. Becca sighed then, shivering lightly in response to his touch, and he could see the goosebumps rippling along her skin. She turned over to face him then, and smiled sleepily. "Mornin' sunshine," she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before laying back and stretching out across the bed. "Ya feelin' better today?"

Shane propped himself up on his elbow and took in the view, though lust quickly faded to curiosity and some concern as he noticed more of the white scars, along with several larger ones, pinkish-grey in color, scattered across her torso. Gingerly, he touched one of the grey ones, and asked, "What happened here?"

"Don't really matter now. It's in the past," Becca replied with a shrug. The movement made her breasts bounce, catching Shane's attention, and her expression turned to a sultry feline smirk. "Besides, I certainly don't recall you complainin' last night. In fact, the only words I remember comin' outta your mouth the whole time we were goin' at it were 'mine' and 'come for me'."

*mine…!*

Lust did not bite this time, but it certainly nipped, and Shane quickly rolled so that he pinned Becca to the bed. She giggled as he nibbled on her neck, but then the laughter turned to a painful gasp as his teeth hit the same spot from the night before. He quickly pulled away and noticed the deep blue-black bruise on the side of her throat, the same place he had bitten her. A guilty flush shot through him, and his gaze darted up to meet hers. "Jesus, I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

"Hush," Becca told him, leaning up to kiss him. "It'll heal. You were just a lil'…enthusiastic…is all."

Shane let out a small bark of laughter at that, but then froze as the faint sound of shuffling feet and the smell of rot caught his attention.

*dead-kin…not-threat…threat…?*

He quickly rolled away from Becca and off the bed, looking around for a weapon in spite of the confusion washing over him. "What?" she asked, sounding rather bewildered herself. "What's got into you all of a sudden?"

Before he could answer, the bedroom door slowly creaked open, and the foul, rotting odor hit the two of them full-bore as one of the undead, a large man in the tattered remnants of overalls and little else, stumbled into the room.

*threat…not-threat…THREAT…PROTECT…!*

Shane's heart pounded as panic, anger, and confusion warred within him. Any moment now, that walker would attack, and he was not sure how he'd manage to protect himself, let alone the other defenseless person in the room with him. "Get behind me," he snapped to Becca without taking his eyes off the walker.

Becca scoffed, and then giggled a bit as she crawled out of bed. "You're worried about a creeper? Really?"

She laughed loudly then, and Shane could not help but turn and shoot her an incredulous look. "What, you ain't? You crazy or somethin'?"

"Nope," she said, loudly popping the 'p' sound as the walker shuffled closer, sniffing about as though it could not see them. "Watch this."

Before he could pull her back, Becca walked up to the corpse, turned back to look at Shane, whose jaw dropped as she propped her elbow on the monster's shoulder and leaned on it. "What the fuck…?" he barely managed to gasp as he struggled to register the sight unfolding before him. Not only was the walker not attacking her, it behaved as though she did not exist at all, and almost looked…confused.

Becca stood up straight once more and shrugged. "I'm not really sure myself, but whatever makes us 'us' also makes us invisible to the creepers." She paused, apparently deep in thought, and then spoke again. "Well, not exactly. I mean, if you make a buncha noise or do a lot of movin' about, they'll come sniffin' around, but apparently, we don't register as 'food' to them…which is weird, 'cause I've seen one gnaw on a plastic bag it found stuck to a street sign before."

Shane just stared at her, not saying anything for a moment as the walker—or creeper, as she called it—shuffled back out of the room. Then the shock faded, replaced by confusion and no little anger. "Us? What the hell's that supposed to mean? Better yet, how 'bout you explain what you're doin' here anyway. I sure as hell don't remember you before yesterday."

Becca's grin faded, and her expression turned stony, but before she could respond, the sound of the front door flying open and smacking the wall caught their attention. "Goddamn, are you two still going at it?" a male voice loudly complained. "Hurry the fuck up and finish in there, Becca! The whole house smells like ass now, and that's really saying something since there were creepers in here stinking up the place first."

*male…same-kin…rival…threat…?*

Shane felt a low growl build up in his throat, while Becca palmed her face and sighed. "Stop it," she snapped after a moment. "That's just Bass's dumb ass, complainin' like always." She then sighed and added, "Look, I know ya want answers, an' I'm more than willin' to tell ya what I know, but I'd really rather not do it naked, all right? I tell ya what: I'm gonna go find my clothes, and I'll meet ya in the kitchen. We can talk there. You might want somethin' other than what you were wearin' yesterday, though. That stuff was pretty damn bloody."

Without waiting for a response, Becca strode out of the bedroom, shoving the walker to the floor as she passed, and left Shane scratching his head in more than a little confusion. Was she lying? Maybe, but the walker feebly writhing on the floor without the usual homicidal aggression was a rather noticeable tell that something was not right.

…

Becca was right about his clothes, Shane decided a short time later, realizing for the first time how bloody they were as he held the button-down shirt up to the light. Blood thoroughly caked the fabric, quite possibly beyond saving, though his boots and cargo pants appeared relatively okay. For now, though, he'd settle for whatever he could find left among the things the others left behind when they'd gone. When had that happened, anyway? His memory before yesterday was fuzzy, and he could not remember anything happening that would have led so many walkers to the farm.

After finding some new clothes and getting dressed, Shane made his way toward the kitchen, where the smell of blood and cooking meat rolled over him, making his stomach growl. Seated at the dining room table and busily chewing on a bloody piece of meat that looked like it did not even have a nodding acquaintance with fire was the boy from yesterday who Shane recognized as Bass. The younger man watched Shane with a baleful glare, paused long enough to swallow, and then snapped, "The fuck you looking at, Shithead? You want some, then you can either wait for Becca or go catch your own."

*RIVAL…BEAT HIM…DOMINATE…!*

Rage rolled over Shane in a wave of heat as a growl rose up in his throat. Bass heard the growl, set the meat down, and stood up, snarling and showing his own bloody teeth. "You got a problem? Don't think I won't shank your sorry ass just because Becca let you fuck her brains out."

Shane's growling grew louder at the threat, but before he could make a move, a ceramic bowl flew between the two men and shattered against the far wall with a loud crash. Both of them turned toward the direction the bowl came from and spotted Becca glowering at them both as though they were being exceptionally stupid. "Really?" she hissed, tossing a coffee mug in one hand as though she might throw it next. "I leave the two of ya alone for two goddamn minutes and you're already wavin' your dicks at each other?"

"C'mon, Becca," Bass groaned, only managing to look partially contrite. "The new guy started it, and—AH, GODDAMN IT, BECCA!"

Becca had thrown the cup at Bass and hit him in the face. "Don't gimme that bullshit, Bass!" she spat, glowering angrily at him. "I heard you in here pickin' a fight with him. I ain't deaf, ya know."

Shane started to laugh, but then Becca rounded on him. "And you!" She pointed an accusatory finger at him, but then stopped and shook her head. "Never mind…just sit down and behave. Food's almost ready, and then we can talk."

Not wanting to risk a coffee cup to the face, Shane sat down as Becca turned and left. Bass swore under his breath, but did the same thing, glaring across the table at the other man as he went back to eating. A few minutes later, Becca returned with two plates, both full of what Shane assumed to be the same sort of meat Bass was eating, though fully cooked. She set one down in front of him, before sitting down and starting on her own food. The three of them ate in relative silence for a few minutes, with only the occasional growls coming from Bass and Shane as they glared at one another, until Becca put her fork down, looked over at Shane, and said, "You told me ya wanted an explanation, right?"

He stopped growling at Bass and turned his attention to her. "Yeah, I did. Where'd you two come from? Better yet, where's the rest of my people?"

"Like we even know—or give a shit—about where your people are," Bass spat, rolling his eyes as though the question was stupid.

"Bass!" Becca hissed, glowering at her companion. "Didn't your mama teach ya not to say anythin' if ya can't say somethin' nice?"

"That frigid bitch didn't teach me a damn thing except how I'd never measure up to the all-white kids in the neighborhood," he grumbled, looking away and turning his attention back to his food. "Joke's on her, though. They're all dead, while I'm still here."

Shane shot a look between the two of them, but finally settled his gaze back on Becca, who looked back at him with a long-suffering expression. "Mister, the honest answer is we don't know where your people are. Bass and I smelled the smoke from that burning barn and came to check it out, but by the time we got here, the only living person we found was you, but there were signs that other people had bugged-out in a hurry."

"Judgin' by all the walkers around, I can see why," he replied, his tone caustic and rough. "But that still don't explain why the damn things ain't beatin' the door down tryin' to get to us."

"That one is gonna be a bit harder to explain," Becca began, only for Shane to snort in derision.

"Use small words, then," he snapped, quickly reaching the end of his patience.

"Because those are the only kind a dumbass redneck like you would understand," Bass muttered, unable to resist adding to the conversation.

*rival…challenger…TEACH HIM A LESSON…!*

Shane stood up then, snarling loudly and baring his teeth. Bass hissed back, but looked over at Becca to see if she would put a stop to things. Before she could even begin to say anything, however, Shane leaped over the table and pounced on Bass, landing a solid right hook on the younger man's jaw as the two of them fell. They hit the floor with a heavy thud, and he aimed another punch, but before he could let it fly, Bass surged upward and head-butted him in the mouth, rocking him backward long enough for the boy to throw a punch of his own. Blood filled Shane's mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek, and suddenly the world shifted, turning dark, but bright and clear at the same time as a red haze filled his vision.

*FIGHT…DEFEAT…DOMINATE…!*

Somehow, the world slowed down, and Bass appeared as though he moved in molasses, even as he bared his teeth in an attempt to take a bite out of Shane's arm.

*WIN…MAKE HIM SUBMIT…!*

Pain was a hazy, distant memory as Bass bit down hard enough to draw blood, but he quickly let go when Shane swung around with his free arm and slammed his fist into the younger man's stomach. Bass lost all his breath in one great, wheezy gasp and fell back to the floor, instinctively curling up into a ball and gasping, trying desperately to get his wind back as Shane rained more blows down on him.

"Hey, mister…"

A feminine voice cut across the anger and Shane whipped around to find Becca standing behind him, a warring mix of emotions on her face. Worry, irritation, and…lust? She wanted him, he knew, though he did not know why or how he knew it.

*mine…my female…stake my claim…MINE…!*

Losing interest in Bass, Shane stood up and strode toward Becca, catching her wrist when she tried to back away. "Mine," he growled, pulling her close and tilting her head back to look her in the eye. "You're mine."

Becca opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, he kissed her hard, letting his tongue slip against hers as she moaned into his mouth. Desire flared, and he started to back her against the table, fully intending to lay her out and take her on top of it, when she raised a cupped hand and smacked it over his ear. The impact barely hurt, but the sound was like an explosion, and Shane yelped and leapt backward, startled by the sudden noise. "The hell ya do that for?" he demanded, looking at Becca as though she was crazy.

"I had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?" she retorted, smirking back at him. "As much as I'd love for ya to fuck me silly again, mister, it'd be a bit counterproductive, since you were all hell-bent on me explainin' shit for ya earlier. I'd really hate for ya to have me on the edge and then suddenly start bitchin' at me about what's goin' on, so let me finish talkin' and we'll see where things go from there, okay?"

Before Shane could respond, Bass finally managed to get his wind back, hacking and coughing loudly as he struggled to sit up. "Motherfucker…you didn't have to try to kill me," he groaned in between ragged breaths.

"Don't come cryin' to me about it," Becca spat, looking over at the boy with disgust. "I told your dumb ass to quit poking the bear, but nooooo; ya had to keep pushin' it. You're lucky he—"

She paused then, as if realizing something, and looked back at Shane. "Ya know…I only just realized this, but I have no idea what your name is."

Shane blinked in response to the sudden change of subject, then ran a hand over his scalp and laughed a bit. "Ya weren't so worried about that last night," he chuckled.

"Very true," Becca replied, her voice smooth as she edged closer to him. She then leaned forward so that her body pressed against his and her lips brushed his ear as she whispered, "But maybe next time I'd like to be able to scream your name instead of God's."

*mate…mine…my female…!*

Shane closed his eyes for a moment as lust sank its talons into him, causing his whole body to tense in anticipation, but he managed to bring himself back under control as Becca backed away, a huge grin stretched across her face. He let out a breath in an explosive sigh, and replied, "Ya like playin' with fire, dontcha?"

"I spent ten years bein' afraid," she answered, her voice suddenly serious. "Now that the world's gone to hell, I have the chance not to be, and I'm gonna take it, even if it means playin' with fire. Your name, please, or would ya rather I make one up for ya?"

"If we're making up names for him, my vote is to call him Shithead," Bass announced, ducking as Becca threw a fork at him.

"Bass, if I let you pick everyone's names, we'd be introducin' ourselves as 'Fat Dyke' and 'Sex-Master B' to everyone we meet. There's no way in hell that's happenin'."

Shane snorted at that, and made his way back to his chair, sitting down and giving Becca an appraising look, as though making a monumental decision. She looked back at him, her demeanor clearly impatient. Finally, he took pity on her and, with a smirk, answered, "Shane. That's my name. Happy now?"

If Becca was happy, she obviously did not look it, as she stared at him as though she'd just seen a ghost. Even Bass, who had gone back to eating, noticed this, and said, "Hey, Dyke! Shithead finally answered your question. Aren't you gonna say anything?"

"Shane…" she trailed off, clearly deep in thought. Then her gaze sharpened, and she focused her attention back on Shane and, with a great deal of uncertainty in her voice, asked, "Shane…Walsh?"

The smirk fell from his face then, replaced by shock. "How the hell did ya guess that?" he demanded.

*familiar…not-kin…family…pack-mate…*

The information supplied itself, and Shane could not help but blink and shake his head a bit. "You…I know ya, don't I?" he asked, his voice gentle this time.

"Yeah, ya do," she replied, so softly that he almost did not catch her words as she raised her hand to cover the scar on her face. "Though I coulda swore that you once said you'd never cut off your hair like that. Said somethin' about not wantin' to look like a Klan reject or some shit like that."

Shane studied her carefully, looking at her green eyes and light brown hair, when suddenly, everything clicked. "Becca. You're Becca Stone!" he exclaimed, a genuinely happy smile lighting up his face as he jumped up and pulled her into a fierce hug. "Wait, I remember now," he corrected himself as he let go, "Sarah said you got married, so your last name ain't Stone anymore, is it?"

"No, it is," Becca replied with a fierce shake of her head. "I took it back after my...husband...died."

The way she said the word sounded like a curse, but Shane chose not to pry. "How've ya been, Becca? I haven't seen ya since Mama's funeral."

She did not answer his question right away, and quickly averted her gaze, but he still saw the hurt in her eyes before her mask slipped back into place. "Yeah, it was at Miss Bernadette's funeral…" she trailed off softly. Then she brightened up a bit, and added, "I remember Sarah got that tattoo of a dove over her heart as a memorial. She said you got one, too, but yours said Lil' Bird."

Her gaze shifted to his chest, where the tattoo lay hidden under his shirt, then back up to his face, and it was then that Shane noticed something strange about Becca's eyes. Her pupils were oval-shaped, and even as he watched, they contracted into narrow, vertical slits like a cat before expanding again. Unnerved, his gaze darted over to Bass, who had finished eating and was watching the proceedings with a bored and slightly disgusted expression, and he saw that the other man's eyes were the same. When Bass noticed Shane looking back at him, he said nothing, but raised a hand and flipped him off. Shane growled a bit at the gesture, but turned his attention back to Becca and asked, "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Becca raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the question, but responded, "The same thing that's wrong with yours, I imagine."

Taken aback by her response, Shane looked around for something reflective but found nothing immediately available, so he left the two of them there and headed back up to the bathroom and its mirror. Once there, he peered at his reflection and felt his blood go cold. His eyes were the same color as always, but his pupils had changed. They were the same oval shape as Bass and Becca's pupils, and as he watched, they contracted to the same cat-like slits. Then, without really stopping to think about it, he bared his teeth and let out an explosive breath at the sight of them. Instead of the appearance of normal human teeth, they looked animalistic, predatory: all slightly pointed and the kind of white one only saw in toothpaste commercials. The change was not immediately noticeable unless you actively looked for it, but it was there all the same. 'No wonder I left that big-ass bruise on Becca's neck…it's a miracle I didn't tear her damn throat out!'

"What the hell is this?" he said to himself, reaching up to touch his reflection with a trembling hand. "What the fuck's goin' on?"